Black Flower: Crooked Thorn
Glimpses of Twilight "My name is Shigeru Kurohana. I am an official emissary of the Royal Court. I speak on behalf of his Majesty, the King of Souls. Peace and order are vital to the maintenance of the balance of souls. Thus, I implore you to immediately cease and desist your harmful activities. Should you concede you shall be left in peace. However, resistance shall be punished harshly." "Oh, yeah?" Shigeru narrowed his eyes slightly. He was a solidly built man, tall and fairly muscular - a pureblood Sōzōshin of superhuman presence. Clad in a pristine white kimono his overall appearance was rather rough, though, with thick eyebrows, wide jaw and prominent stubble. His long jet black hair were mostly tied in a ponytail, although a fringe hanged over his forehead and stuck up partially. Something that would be highly unusual for a regular Soul, his irides were of imperial red colour. "So what? You think we be scared or somethin'?", asked one of the brutes in front of him. Kurohana remained outwardly calm. He was standing straight, with his arms hanging loosely. The expression of his masculine face was relatively relaxed, but only on the surface. He knew what type of people he had to deal with, and those were not the most friendly types on the outskirts of . A bunch of hostile, violent men with too much power, spiritual power, at their disposal. Souls like that had been becoming ever more common recently. And Souls with power were rarely willing to voluntarily yield to any authority except for their own. "If you refuse I shall apprehend and imprison you", recited Shigeru in a moderately firm tone, though a single streak of sweat flowed on his forehead. "In case you attempt to resist with the use of violence, I am allowed to reciprocate with lethal force and summarily execute all of you." "Ya hear that? The good guy's gettin' dangerous! Ha!", the apparent leader of the group said toward his companions. They burst out laughing for a while, then stared at Shigeru in an unfriendly manner. He had to stand strong. After all, she was with him. "This isn't going to work, Shigeru", whispered Asuka without moving from her position beside him, though in a tone adjusted so that the thugs would not hear her. "They are too simple-minded to negotiate with the use of words and concepts. Their language is violence." Shigeru glanced at her before he stared at the troublesome group of strong Souls. He assumed a face expression that was supposed to be intimidating, yet he was not sure of the result. "This is your last chance. Accept and you shall not be bothered again. Refuse and suffer the consequences." "I ain't wanna suffer your bullshit no more", replied the bandit leader. "We're gonna cut you up and have some fun with that pretty lady over there." When he and his unkempt companions began drawing their tachi the frown on Shigeru's face became genuine. He had been rather anxious just moments ago. He did not like combat. He might have been a Sōzōshin but he preferred talking and ceremonies rather than the thrill of battle. Still, for someone to even jokingly (and they were not joking) suggest such a thing involving his wife... "As usual", she asked him silently. "Indeed", he replied shortly. Suddenly, Asuka vanished with a faint sound of Shunpo. The thugs were obviously surprised by that unexpected disappearance. "Seems the lady's left you all alone. Too bad, now you must make up fer that", said the bandit leader with a mock smile. "Listen, we can still negotiate", suggested Shigeru, lifting his arms in a defensive gesture. "There is no need for anyone to get hurt." "Oh, there sure is, fucker", disagreed the thug. "Okay, okay, if you wish", replied Kurohana. He reached to his waist and grabbed the jet hilt of his Zanpakutō, a tachi with a rectangular guard. He assumed the opening posture of ketsugidō, with his legs slightly spread and the three body centres of mass aligned on a vertical axis. His sword was poised upward at a high angle and held in front. Such a stable and reserved stance was the ideal foundation of stalwart defence, though his would-be opponents were unlikely to perceive and appreciate the finesse of such techniques. "Come to think of it, we're willin' to listen to you", revealed the bandit leader all of a sudden. "Lots and lots of screams. Yeah, I wanna hear mister high and mighty scream like a little girl." "I see", said Shigeru. "I can save you the effort. Please, just stay calm and listen...", he continued slowly. In the meantime, he lifted his off-hand and began moving the index finger against the hiraji of the blade. "Resound, Sensasayaki", he whispered. Then, as the motion proceeded a shrill sound emanated from his Zanpakutō, piercing to the point of causing shivers. The blade became straight and double-edged only to split into two parts so that it resembled a tuning fork in appearance. Confused, the thugs stopped on their way toward him with their eyes widened. "The hell was that? Some sorta trick?" A response came, though not one they could have expected. At first, there was a low, droning sound. Omnipresent, without a discernible source. Quickly, the sound began growing louder and louder until the bewildered bandits could hear a number of voices. Male, female, young, mature and old. Disembodied voices that kept whispering to them simultaneously, dozens or even hundreds, an unintelligible noise of intertwined utterances with no meaning. The sound was growing louder. Ever louder. "What... what the fuck!?" "The hell is that!?" "Make it stop!" Shigeru was watching them with a frown of concentration. The split blade of his Shikai was vibrating gently. He could hear the voices too, though for him they were little more than a quiet hum. In the meantime, the confused thugs had been gradually overwhelmed by the volume of the noise. So much that most of them ceased to pay attention to their surroundings... "Kill... kill him...!", exclaimed one of them, one hand wielding a tachi and the other covering an ear in a futile attempt to dampen the horrible sounds. All of a sudden there was a hiss of air, a silent sound only Shigeru could hear. Then, several of the bandits collapsed, all of them bisected. The rest noticed with a slight delay. "What!?" Another imperceptible swoosh and another bloody swathe was cut through the ranks of the bandits. It was Asuka and her own Shikai, Shinryo Shintō. She had manoeuvred behind the group whilst Shigeru was occupying their attention and prepared for their inevitable lack of caution following their entrapment within the auditory illusions of Sensasayaki. With the extending blades of her twin tonfa-style blades she swiftly cut down most of the bandits. Only their leader remained. "You...", he seethed with a glint of madness in his eyes. The brute plunged at Shigeru, a hulking mass of sizeable muscles, raw spiritual power and the sharp edge of a mock-Asauchi. Kurohana was calm. The world around him seemed to slow down when he prepared to fend off the attack. He grabbed the hilt of his Zanpakutō with both hands and as the enemy approached him, he positioned the twinned blade at an angle. Thus, the bandit leader's sword virtually slid off his own with minimal effort on the part of Shigeru, but a detrimental unexpectedness for the attacker. Aburaha, a ketsugidō move, true to its core tenets of a tireless defence. When the brute passed by Shigeru, the latter turned slightly and swung his Zanpakutō in a broad arc. Its vibrating blades met no resistance as they carved a long wound on the bandit's back to ultimately separate his torso from the lower part of his body. Both of the halves fell to the ground limply. Kurohana sighed, cleared blood from the blades with a single motion and sealed the Zanpakutō. "I will never comprehend that defiance", he muttered whilst sheathing his tachi. "Their... intellect exists on an entirely different level", said Asuka as she was approaching him unhurriedly. "Abstract concepts such as loyalty or order are beyond their ability to comprehend. They lash out at that which disturbs them and invariably resort to violence whenever met with any challenge. That is their way of life, however pathetic that is." Shigeru glanced at her, then back at the bodies that were now strewn in front of him. Bifurcated corpses laying in expanding pools of crimson blood. There was no satisfaction in his face expression, but rather sombreness. Once she stood beside him, though, he looked at Asuka again and his gaze remained fixed at her longer. Her Shikai was still active and she seemed to half-consciously maintain a combat-ready stance. Somewhat dance-like, gracious and deadly. He had seen her in the most elegant of formal kimono and now she was clad in a rather revealing clothing more fit for battle. Drops of blood were falling from the blades of her Zanpakutō yet her face expression was calm, pensive. "You are beautiful", he could not help but remark despite the macabre surroundings. "And you've been pathetic as always", she countered with a raised eyebrow. Shigeru appeared rather disheartened by such a response. "You know they keep distracting me. I am not really fit for combat situations like that", he explained with a shrug. "I know", noted Asuka whilst finally sealing her Zanpakutō. "But you could try to be more... manly whilst drawing their attention away from me." "I am not like them. Even though they were complete and hostile strangers to me I can't help but think that's been unnecessary", continued Shigeru with downcast eyes. "How much blood do we have to spill to make sure no more will be spilt? What kind of predicament is that?" His wife approached him and placed her hand at his shoulder as she looked up at him. "Yes, you're not like them", she said in a rather quite voice. "You're sensitive. You think of consequences and implications. That is what separates you from other men and one of the reasons I love you", she continued with a faint smile. She embraced him. After a while he embraced her with his right arm. However, he kept gazing at the dead bandits. "Let's leave this place", he said eventually. "I think I've had enough of this for a time." *** "You shouldn't go, Shigeru." "I have to go, darling." The two were standing in the vestibule of their estate. Shigeru wore his usual white kimono and his Zanpakutō rested in its sheath, fastened to his sash. Conversely, Asuka was clad in a casual, light purple kimono and her spiritual weapon was nowhere to be seen. In her arms she held a peculiar bundle. A bundle that was moving and emitting quiet sounds from time to time. "Are you really sure this is the only way?", asked Asuka with her lips twitching slightly. The gaze of her eyes was intense and desparate. She stood almost immobile, as if pinned on the spot, and embraced the bundle a bit tighter. She was staring at the back of her husband, the man who was about to leave her and their child behind to go to war. A horrible war that promised no return... The child whimpered when it sensed her distress. "Maebure-dono is convinced that there is no other way. Negotiations failed on all fronts. The situation is growing ever worse and the authorities are unwilling to remedy that. We must take a decisive action. Someone has to." Asuka began lulling the baby, although she kept staring at her husband. "But that is high treason! Are you aware what is the kind of punishment for that!?", she raised her voice. Shigeru sighed heavily. "If we fail, the consequences will be far worse than the punishment of those involved directly. But with Maebure-dono leading the revolt we may succeed. This is our only chance to restore the balance. All or nothing." The child was crying, as was his mother. She lifted the baby and pressed her cheek against the small head of the child, trying to soothe him. "What about us?", she asked with a breaking voice. At last, Shigeru turned around to look at her and the baby. Then, he approached them and embraced them. "You are the main reason I want to go. To make sure you are safe." "So stay with us!", sobbed Asuka. "Protect us! Don't go and fight somebody else's war!" She knew she was being egoistic and irrational. She was aware of the potential consequences. The Soul Society could be overrun by unruly Souls with excessive spiritual power and the ranks of Sōzōshin had been dwindling at an alarming rate. That could spell the doom of the entire universe, yet the Soul King refused to take action. His reasons were inexplicable, but what was known was that the situation had to be solved. Someone had to do it and that was, indeed, the only way that seemed to offer a viable chance of success. A terrible way. "The more of us participate the greater our chance to emerge victorious", stated Shigeru calmly. "The Soul King has guardians. Many guardians. If we wish to overthrow him we will need everything we have to succeed. You know that." There was a period of silence afterward. Even the child appeared to become peaceful. His sobs were replaced with cooing as the little boy reached toward the hairy chin of his father with his plump fingers. A single tear fell on the baby. "You must run away somewhere safe. Protect our son. Abandon everything and hide", said Shigeru with ominous intensity. "I hope we will succeed, but there is no guarantee." Asuka muttered a response that her husband interpreted as confirmation. Then, he withdrew slightly, though he was still holding his family with his arms. He looked at the baby with a warm yet sad smile on his face. "The fragrance of a baby is the most beautiful in the world", he stated. "Let's call him Kaoru. Kaoru Kurohana." "Yes", Asuka managed to reply. "Kaoru." Ultimately, he retreated and walked toward the exit with the fervour of a man about to be executed. "Find a shelter and wait, darling", he said as he stood at the threshold. "As far away from here as you can." Then, he departed. *** "This is the residential area. The orders are to purge the district." "Purge?" A small group of Souls, six of them, had been moving rapidly until they stopped in the middle of an alley. The floating city that belonged to House Maebure was embattled; the clamour of warcries, the clatter of blades and the booms of spiritual techniques was resounding across the area incessantly. The Souls were clad in distinct black kimono and armed with tachi. However, they were no ordinary Souls and their swords were not simple bars of metal either. They were , trained and disciplined warriors. Spirits of deceased people who rose to power rivalling that of the supernatural Sōzōshin. A replacement. "This is a direct order from His Majesty, the Soul King himself. All rebels and their associates, friends and family are to be summarily executed. No exceptions." Whilst not entirely convinced, the Soul Reapers were determined to follow the orders. There was no higher authority imaginable that could demand to commit such actions and in spite of their callous nature the Shinigami had no choice but to execute them. "Our main forces have engaged the Sōzōshin at the Kagayaki Square", explained the squad leader when the team began moving more carefully toward the elegant small buildings not far in the distance. "The resistance we meet here should be-" Suddenly, the Shinigami could hear a piercing sound that sent shivers through their backs. Protracted and shrill. They lifted their swords and started looking around quickly to spot the source. "What was that?" "Hey, over there! I see him!" The Soul Reapers turned to the right as one man, all but the leader who was... surprised to hear his own voice despite the fact he had not said anything. When he realised that something was amiss it was already too late. From a narrow alleway between two nearby buildings a white-clad man burst forth without a warning. His blade hissed as it drew a broad semi-circle that carved through the body of the closest Shinigami. The warrior gasped only to fall to the ground with trails of blood following his descent. "No, dammit! He's here!", yelled the squad leader with his eyes widened. Shigeru corrected his stance. Two Shinigami attacked him simultaneously, although his risen blade poised at a near-horizontal angle blocked both of the strikes. The warrior on Kurohana's left followed up quickly with another strike and the former blocked again, letting him pass by in the process. The other warrior lifted his tachi overhead in preparation for a powerful two-handed strike. Nevertheless, Shigeru defended from it with minimal effort. Regardless, he sensed the impending danger from behind as the Shinigami who had passed by him was about to slice his back. The one in the front was almost ready to continue as well. As such, Kurohana ducked. The two blades of his enemies cut the air above his head and clashed with each other rather unexpectedly to their wielders. Both withdrew quiet quickly, but not quick enough. Shigeru performed a sweeping slash to the right that cleaved the stomach of the Soul Reaper in front. Then, he continued the motion fluently as he stood up and turned around so that the blade finished its wide motion partially embedded in the face of the warrior behind him. Both killed within a single second, they fell to the ground. "Fuck!", exclaimed the squad leader. He and the two remaining warriors had attempted to approach Shigeru. However, discouraged by the abrupt deaths of their comrades the three retreated a moderate distance. Subsequently, the leader aimed his off-hand at the Sōzōshin. "Hadō #31, !" His Reiatsu coalesced into a sphere of fire-like energy that was instantly propelled toward his opponent. Disregarding the bodies of his fallen comrades, the spell unleashed a medium-sized explosion upon impact. A crater was left in the pavement and the walls of the two buildings behind partially collapsed. "Gahk!", one of the warriors uttered. Then, his head separated from the rest of the body and fell to the ground, followed shortly by the rest. The commander of the unit and his last subordinate turned around rapidly to witness his demise. "You son of a bitch!" The two leapt at Kurohana. The latter, whilst obviously tense, appeared rather composed at the same time. Once again he managed to deflect two nigh-simultaneous strikes. The Shinigami kept lashing at him madly for a short while, forcing him to retreat a few steps. Suddenly, a minor misstep in the footing of the subordinate and Shigeru's blade cut off his forearm and left a deep gash on his chest. The man collapsed, watched briefly by his leader. Then, the last Soul Reaper glared at the Sōzōshin with a frown of fury on his face. "I'll kill you for that", he proclaimed with gritted teeth. "I've expected nothing less from a would-be murderer", countered Shigeru with a quiet voice. "Haaah!" The two clashed, the curved blade of a tachi against the twinned blade of Kurohana's Shikai. The clang of the metal was unusually piercing, almost defeaning. Nevertheless, the squad leader ignored the noise to cut again, and again. Shigeru parried both of the strikes. Then, the two locked their blades briefly, but a shift in Kurohana's stance forced the Shinigami to retreat, lest he lost balance. And when the squad leader was performing another strong attack... "Commander", he heard a whisper directly to his ear. The Shinigami briefly lost concentration. In the meantime, Shigeru spun about his axis to evade the vertical strike and move behind the charging opponent. The Soul Reaper bared his teeth when the realisation came, shortly before the split blade of his enemy's Zanpakutō decapitated him swiftly from behind. Kurohana watched his final descent with a very grim face expression. Shinigami. There had been many powerful Souls in the past, some of them wielding actual Zanpakutō at that. However, there never had been so many. So powerful. That was not the worst aspect of the situation, though. Far from it. They were the new executioners of the Soul King's will. They were a replacement. Shigeru and his people were deemed obsolete. They had outlived their usefulness and now was the time to remove them in order to make room for the new generation of balancers. Remove all of them. "Enemy spotted!" The voice roused him from his brief stupor. Another group of Soul Reapers, this time significantly more numerous. About thirty. The first team must have been a mere reconaissance unit. Now came the strike force. "Hadō #33, !", exclaimed one of the warriors whilst the rest began dispersing to surround Shigeru. "Bakudō #39, !", countered the Sōzōshin. The blast of light blue energy impacted against the bright yellow disk with considerable impetus. However, the barrier withstood the attack. Nevertheless, multiple Shinigami had been able to spread out and now that the kidō briefly occupied Shigeru's attention they managed to rapidly approach him from several directions. Kurohana swung his blade to intercept a few nigh-simultaneous attacks. Five Shinigami proceeded to mount a joint assault yet he succeeded in blocking their blades. Each time their Zanpakutō clashed with his Shikai the clatter produced was atypically shrill. Suddenly, the Soul Reapers heard an extremely loud screech. All of them cringed and withdrew slightly, allowing Kurohana to escape with a hasty Flash Step. Before they were able to regain concentration he cut down one of them. Only then the rest recovered. "Get him!" One of the Shinigami leapt at Shigeru and swung his blade in a strong downward slash. However, Kurohana shuffled to the side and as the enemy blade descended harmlessly inches from him, he sliced the exposed warrior with impunity. Another one rushed at him immediately afterward. " !", exclaimed Shigeru whilst aiming his off-hand at the opponent. Disapproving of hadō but fairly proficient in bakudō he grabbed the tachi of the enemy and pulled him forward, forcing him to lose balance. Then, as the Shinigami stumbled beside him he cut his throat with a swift slash. Ere the dead warrior fell next to his deceased comrade the third attacker charged at Kurohana. Sudden, the manoeuvre left little time to react. Shigeru slanted backward, but the tip of the enemy's blade reached him. A gash was carved on his face and with a surge of pain the right eye was shut down forever. Regardless, for all his reluctance Kurohana was an experienced fighter. When the opponent's Zanpakutō reached the nadir of its arc he slashed the Shinigami's chest, prompting a streak of blood to mark the swing of his own blade. The wound was deep enough to prove fatal. However, Shigeru was surrounded. Seldom he was so ruthless and aggressive in combat. Although that was not simple fury nor hatred. They were brave and loyal warriors, the new servants of the Ultimate Authority. At the same time, they were the executioners, butchers ordered to mercilessly slay everyone associated with their obsolete predecessors. That was... indignation. "Can't you see this is wrong!?", he yelled at them so loud that the few who were about to plunge at him stopped involuntarily. "We are all Balancers of Souls! Guardians of peace and order! Why don't we work together to maintain and secure this world!? Why do we slaughter each other as sworn enemies!?" "Don't listen to him!", exclaimed one of the Shinigami. "He's a dangerous criminal like the rest!" Shigeru widened his remaining eye, the shock so great he ignored the pain of his wound. So that was who he was now. A criminal. Bandit. Outlaw. He devoted most of his adult life to the protection of Soul Society and that was his ultimate prize: condemnation and death. All he wanted to do was to save his people, but in his struggle to defend them he was labelled as one of those from who he strived to defend them in the first place. "This is madness!", he yelled at his enemies. They responded with a charge. When the foremost Shinigami approached him Kurohana swept him aside with kyozetsu, but then the rest came in great numbers. Swiftly, he erected a veritable barrier consisting of a whirring blade, kenkanmon, that let him block multiple strikes from several directions. Shocked, the enemies withdrew after an intense but ineffective onslaught. The tempest of sharpened twinned metal ceased immediately afterward. Shigeru assumed the stable opening posture of ketsugidō, panting slightly. Blood and sweat were flowing down on his stiff face. So that was going to be his end. After hundreds of years of loyal service he was to be executed as a criminal by a group of foot soldiers. His blade blocked, parried and sliced, but every now and then a strike passed by to wound his tiring body. The world was becoming red and then ever darker, the clamour of battle changing into an unintelligible hellish noise. In the end, before the darkness took him, he could not help but think... I truly was pathetic... Combat System "Do not treat the sword as something separate from you. Your sword is just another limb. An extension of your body. Do not hesitate. When you strike, strike. When you block, block. Indecision is death." A slender woman was marching amongst the pairs of her students, casting cold glances with her piercing green eyes. She was young, yet there was something dignified to the features of her diamond-shaped face, austere even. With thin eyebrows, long eyelashes, small aquiline nose and high cheekbones she had the appearance of a noblewoman. However, she was clad in a rather modest, simple black and white kimono. Even her somewhat unusual hair, brilliant light blond, was cut short. She was sliding across the training hall with the statuesque grace of a dancer or an experienced warrior. Her pale lips formed a straight line and her overall face expression could make a grown man wince. "The entire point of is for your body to become a vessel to your killing intent. Don't let superfluous thoughts cloud your judgement and impair your reflexes. Act and react", she continued her stern lecture. The clatter of the wooden blades of was irregular but continuous and hypnotising. A couple dozen of prospective Shinigami kept struggling in mock-duels, putting their rudimentary zanjutsu skills against one another in an arduous and protracted process of training. "There is still much for you to learn", muttered the instructor in the tone of a reprimand. "I beg your pardon, Kōtaku-''sensei'', but I can't... do it...", said one of the students shortly afterward. The woman moved beside the student in a manner so swift that it seemed like a display of Shunpo. The pair she approached consisted of two boys; one of them was slanted and covered in sweat with a pained face expression. The other stood tall, immovable like a pivot, and his face was concealed by an eerie ivory white mask. "Oh", Kimiko remarked with a faint smirk. "It's you again." "They're weak", grumbled the masked student. Even now he was standing in a pose that only seemed to be relaxed. Kōtaku knew that he could easily switch and strike an unwary opponent within an instant if he wished so. His designated opponent looked pathetic in comparison. The wooden stick in his hand, this fake sword, did appear to be an extension of his being indeed. He was the one... the nameless one from Usuguraiboshi District, wasn't he? "I see", murmured Kimiko. "Attention!", she exclaimed soon after. Her students stopped almost immediately, by now accustomed to the commanding tone of her strong voice. They all stared at the instructor, exhausted classmate and the masked one. The masked one... "Usuguraiboshi-kun knows how to fight like a true warrior", stated Kōtaku in a raised voice. "Composed. Dauntless. Unyielding. Those are the traits of a perfect Shinigami. However." She drew her own bokken and signaled the tired student to move away with a glance. Then, she stood in front of Usuguraiboshi. Obviously, she could not see his face but his head seemed to follow her motions. "Amongst a hundred men there will be one who could trample all of the others. Such exceptional individuals wade through the corpses and blood of their fallen enemies unabated. And then, inevitably, they face someone who is stronger." She unhurriedly assumed the opening posture of seimitsudō, the known as kushi. She shuffled her right leg forward and faced the boy side on, holding her sword tightly and poised at his concealed face. Her masked pupil did not appear to react, yet she could discern that his body became tense. "Those who are better than others tend to assume they are the best. The truth is, they are not. Now, Usuguraiboshi-kun, show me how you fight someone on an entirely different level." "Yes." That was all the warning. No hesitation. No questions asked. Just an immediate reaction. The boy rushed at her with a sweeping slash. Kimiko poised her bokken to intercept the abrupt strike. Usuguraiboshi's blade slid off hers quickly and he swiftly transitioned to an attack from another angle. Time and again, strikes which seemed powerful yet easily blocked only to transition into the next one with no delay. Deceptive. The boy was taller than her and surprisingly strong. However, for all his talent Kōtaku could easily perceive the imperfection of his technique. His motions were too rigid, not optimal in their delivery, slightly telegraphed in spite of his attempts at misdirection. Regardless, Kimiko's own skill was matched by select few in the entire Soul Society, literally. That boy, whilst still young and inexperienced, did not fight like a student. He fought like those barbarians from the outskirts of Rukongai, rough, fierce, unrelenting. His pace increased. There was no arrogance nor carelessness she half-expected. Truly, he was making an incredible effort, his fledgling muscles flexed, wiry like iron ropes beneath his fair skin. Kōtaku pushed him back, then performed two fast slashes. The boy defended from both of them, standing in a stable position and holding his bokken two-handed. Then, he leapt to the side to evade the third attack. Usuguraiboshi rotated about his axis to perform a powerful slash from the side. Kimiko parried the attack with ease, though. Having disrupted his counter offence, she immediately approached him in a similar spinning manoeuvre, passing by his wooden blade and emerging behind him within an instant. Subsequently, she struck the back of his head with her training sword. The boy collapsed in a heap. "Good", remarked Kimiko whilst reverting to the opening stance. "As you..." Usuguraiboshi jumped to his feet. Kōtaku raised her eyebrows when she noticed a wooden blade dashing toward her face. With a single Flash Step she escaped the abrupt strike. The boy followed her quickly. She positioned her blade to block the head-on charge. All of a sudden, he leapt to the side, abruptly changing the trajectory of his attack from straightforward to roundabout. Kimiko rapidly swung her blade to the side to defend. The bokken clashed and recoil forced both of them away from each other. The boy noticed a minute change in his instructor. Something was different... Her body became a blur. He readied himself to block the inevitable strike. Something approached him with a loud whizz... his bokken shattered in a shower of splinters and the blade of Kōtaku struck his masked face with considerable force. He fell to the floor, virtually pinned with the powerful attack. He laid there for a while, his mind shaken and unable to focus. "As I was saying", he heard the, slightly distorted, voice of his zanjutsu teacher. "The moment you meet someone superior on the battlefield is inevitable. But that is not the end. When that happens, fight for your life. Do not hesitate, do not waver. To the abandon of all else focus on combat, use every technique and every trick at your disposal. When you pitch your entire being against the enemy, there are only two possible results. You either overcome the odds and win, or die without regrets. That is the spirit of a true warrior." The world slowly returned to its normal state. Usuguraiboshi felt that his mask had partially cracked, but that was not an issue. He could fix that. Unexpectedly, he realised someone was standing in front of him. "Stand up, Usuguraiboshi-kun." No hand offered to help him. Of course. He was alone. He had to do everything on his own. Still, he stood up somewhat shakily and stared at his instructor. Her face expression was as stern as usual. However, she could not deceive him. Under that inexpressive façade he recognised... satisfaction? "Well done", she said before she walked away. *** "Discipline and commitment. This peasant boy here lacks these crucial traits." Takahiro Kagawa was pacing beside the unruly pupil, his arms folded behind his back, grasping right forearm with left hand and with the right arm hanging straight down. He was a middle-aged man of average looks and prominent widow's peak cutting into his greying black hair. However, his light, fairly tight-fitting sleeveless kimono exposed his imposing physique and large, shapely muscles as if chiseled in granite. "One could think that a low-class from the outskirts of Rukongai is used to many hardships and inconveniences. But not this boy, no! He speaks nary a word and seems to follow commands just fine, until he suddenly becomes moody and refuses because he thinks the exercise is gross." The hakuda instructor fixed the stare of his brown eyes on the ostensibly teenaged boy with an ivory mask concealing his face. The boy from Usuguraiboshi District. Raise, lower, raise, lower. One push-up after another, a form of punishment for bold disobedience and stubbornness. Fifty five, fifty six, fifty seven... "There is no place for such behaviour on the battlefield. A true Shinigami does not care about comfort. They fight covered in blood, sweat and shit of their fallen enemies unabated." Sixty nine, seventy, seventy one... "There are far more important concerns to take care of than one's unwillingness to make physical contact with the enemy. Isn't that ridiculous? It's an integral and inevitable element of combat." A group of other students, many of them panting slightly, sweating and covered in varying amounts of dirt stood a couple of metres away from their monologuing instructor and rebellious peer. In the beginning he had their full attention. However, with time, more and more glances were cast at Usuguraiboshi, who kept doing the push-ups with the regularity of an automaton. Ninety three, ninety four, ninety five... "You may not want to specialise in hakuda in the future when, or rather if, you become members of the Thirteen Divisions. Nonetheless, unarmed combat is a crucial aspect of our combat system. When fancy magic and blade weapons fail, what are you going to do? Surrender? Flee? Beg for mercy? No, you raise your fist and punch the enemy's face in", continued Takahiro with fervour, gesticulating wildly while addressing his pupils. One twenty, one twenty one, one twenty two... "Don't count on the enemies being polite enough not to touch you if you ask them nicely. They are more likely to laugh as they cut off your heads or beat you to a pulp. This is why... we...", he eventually noticed his bygone hearers staring at the one who encouraged him to deliver this speech in the first place. Raise, lower, raise, lower. One after another. The boy kept going in almost complete silence. His sinewy muscles bulged out, engorged, wrapped with intricate web of purple veins. Sweat was flowing from his body, the training kimono wet, and dripping to the ground beneath him. Pull and push, like a machine. "Hmmh", Kagawa stood right in front of Usuguraiboshi, stroking his chin. "Why do you keep going, boy?" "Because you haven't told me to stop yet", he uttered in a tense, quiet voice, his pace unchanged. "Oh, I see...", replied Takahiro with a pensive face expression. "All right, boys and girls, you're dismissed. I need to talk with Usuguraiboshi-kun alone." "Yes, Master!" The other pupils dispersed, some of them with hesitation, still gawking at their eerie classmate who apparently was attempting to become a human piston. Once the stragglers left, Kagawa reverted to his former stance and spread his legs slightly. "You may stop now, Usuguraiboshi-kun. Stand up." The boy finished the last push-up and followed his command. His protruding chest was pumping air at an even pace, but the instructor could not hear any panting. Nor see, for that matter, with the vaguely triangular plate of his student's mask obscuring his countenance. "Why did you refuse to wrestle with your designated partner?", the teacher asked after a moment of silence. "I've already told you", replied Usuguraiboshi. "I think it's gross." "But you have no issue accepting punishment for disobedience?" "No", was all he heard in response. Takahiro was somewhat confused. At first, he assumed the boy was simply obstinate. Or sissy. Or both. But he certainly did not look like nor behaved like the latter. Was there some sort of specific reason he refused to touch others unless absolutely necessary? Kind of an issue Kagawa would rather not address. Probably, there was no need to do that either... "I may have been mistaken about you", he said eventually, in a pensive manner. "It's difficult to teach you unarmed combat like that. But that litte display was quite impressive, I must admit. You've got some serious stamina, boy." Usuguraiboshi did not comment. The slits of his mask were directed at his instructor's face. That was basically all the indication the latter had that he was being paid attention to. Creepy. "Let's say I'll make an exception for you. We'll train your physical condition and some basic moves without all the touchy stuff you detest so much. What do you think, boy?" "Thank you", replied Usuguraiboshi with a nod of his head. That was all. No follow-up. Just standing there, a teenaged boy with the physique of a veteran soldier. And that blasted mask... "You may go now. Farewell", said Kagawa to get rid of this creepy child for a time. "Understood." He observed him as Usuguraiboshi was departing. The teacher's eyes narrowed. Tough nut to crack, eh? *** Category:Fanfiction